May 31st, 1944
Upottery, England
"Your upcoming mission is here, along this region," I was standing with some of the other members of Black Mamba, all who made it over to England now and we were getting ourselves ready for the upcoming jump into Normandy that was right in our radar. Black Mamba was going to going on another mission, which was going to lead me away from Easy for a few days until I would go and find them again. I was reassured that we were going to go in on a simple mission and it will be no problem. But it wasn't the mission itself that I was going to be anxious about.
It was the whisperings of the other soldiers.
Black Mamba made their home in Upottery, with the other companies that were getting prepped and ready for the jump that we were told was going to happen at any day. However, with the cool and foggy air that was coming, it seemed less of a dude thing that we were going to get in the planes anytime soon. Now it was a waiting game, but Black Mamba was planning for than waiting. We had to make sure it was perfect. Beyond perfect, with no flaw in sight.
With Captain Sobel no longer in the picture, Easy Company had another Captain to follow and to train after, which was much better for them given what they went through with their first Captain. It was almost like they all had a breather, regaining another leader under Meehan and how he was calmer and collected compared to Sobel. Things were working out okay for the boys, and I was glad for him. It also had me help them with their training on map reading, more sand table analyzing, and, of course, weapons.
Easy Company was going to be top notch for certain, and, of course, it made things between Eugene and I both comforting and complicated. Comforting, since when he wasn't training with the other medics and when I wasn't training with Black Mamba, we would talk between meals and even on our down time. Complicated, because my feelings for him were almost to the point ofThey were still training hard and getting to the point where I knew it was going to get me in trouble, deep trouble. Why did it have to be him, and why me of all people with the kind of training that I have? Was God playing a trick on me? I hoped so, and I had to find a way to make it less of a pain and fast.
"Once we reach this area, we are going to need to get in rather quick to disarm the area and the communication," Captain Matthews explained as he was pointing to the certain part of France where we were going to be nestled deep in enemy territory that no one else, Special ops wise, wanted to touch or even consider as an Operation. Of course, it had to be us, Black Mamba, going to be as daring as were supposed to be. It was fine by us as we were taking notes in our heads.
"Thus far, from what we gathered, we won't be seeing anything out in the open when it comes to enemy fire, most of it will be hidden within those houses and hillsides. Our mission is to get into this town undetected and unannounced, get to the main source of communication and dismantle it so that no more German troops of tanks can come through from the backend and take our boys by surprise.'' Matthews was going on with the plan now as Harper spoke up from next to me.
"What kind of weapons are we going to bring with us?" Harper asked in curiosity.
"We're going to make it light, nothing bigger than a shotgun since you're going to bring it with you on your jump into our landing zone about 10 miles out, as long as we keep it quiet and take out any soldiers with silence, nothing is needed that will be bigger what can be concealed," He answered her.
"After we fulfill this mission, are we going to have a pick-up point in order to get back to the companies we're assigned to?" O'Neal questioned him.
"We're going to take you from here," He pointed to another dot, on the other side of the map that was a bit farther out from the town and we could see that it was rather isolated and no even close to any other citizens or towns.
"Your companies that you are assigned to know of your need to make this mission in Special Operations, and you will go back tow here they are along the lines of the war and you'll be with them until another Operation comes into play," Matthews ended that conversation with us now, standing up completely and pointing to the map with the finger, "This is the start of your reputation among the other Companies here in the army, and I know will be making waves whether this Operation us successful or not," It was like he knew what we were all thinking, at least, what I was thinking. The closer we were getting to the war and jumping into Normandy, or Wherever I was jumping, I was getting more and more nervous with what was going to come and what was going to be held for me. It was one thing to talk about it, plan it out on a map and go over different scenarios and the different weapons that were going to be used, but it was another thing to actually live it and embrace it with both hands out in the open and ready for release. Was I going to make it a few hours? What about a day or so? I knew I was good, I trained to be good, better than good. But it would be different than being all the way out here and having combat gear on you.
It was a bit different from being a ballerina for sure, almost completely.
"Can you believe it? We're actually going on a mission!" O'Neal said in a gleeful manner as we were walking out of the tent now and along the grass that was there, our boots hitting the moist earth as the others in Black Mamba was walking right behind us, talking together and already thinking about the drop we were going to take. We didn't know when we were going, as long as it was along the same time as the rest of the American Army was dropping too.
"It's practically here I guess," I replied back to O'Neal.
"Who knew that we're going to be the first all-female Special Operations in this war," She voiced again, almost like she was trying to make me, even more, nervous than I was. She could see it on my face, how I was not saying a word about it and thinking it more and more with my own self and brain. She chuckled, clasping me on the shoulder and I had to look at her then, seeing the youthful look on her face and how she didn't look like a soldier to me, almost like a teenager who was caught up in this whole thing.
"You think too much, you know that?" She asked me in a heartfelt manner.
"I can't help it," I replied back to her, thinking that Lying to her as one of my closest friends in Black Mamba would really not be a good thing to do in this moment, "You're not the last bit scared about it?"
"We're all scared, Lieutenant." She admitted to me in her cool ways, "But what we're going to have to go with that fear is going to be different from how the men are going to have to deal with it. They might have the option to be afraid or not, but we don't have the luxury. Hate to say it, ma'am, we can't afford to be in fear for now on."
She had a good point. Fear, for lack of a better word, was something that was never meant to be in out category. We were the outsiders already in this war, the ones that would forever have some kind of stamping in history whether we liked it or not. People were going to look for us, for either hope or in anticipation. Either way, the world was going to see us and either recognize us as heroes or failures.
Which one was it going to be with us?
"Lieutenant Bellerose!" I was taken away again from my thoughts again as I was seeing Winters in front of me again, walking over to me with another soldier right behind me and it looked freshly new to the area. O'Neal rolled her eyes and looked over at me as Winters and the soldier behind him.
"Look like you're going to be occupied for awhile, find me when you're done, okay?" She asked.
"Of course, O'Neal," I replied back to her, seeing her walk away with the rest of the girls, and they were all saying goodbye to me. It was like they knew I was going to the other side with the men, but were they bitter about it? I hoped they weren't and I wanted to know how they felt about it. Then again, we all were assigned to another company to help whole we were waiting for our Operations to come into play. We all were helping others, but it felt different to me.
"Hello, sir," I said to Winters as I approached him there in the middle, the man behind him grinning as he eyed me up and down in awe.
"I want you to meet our new second lieutenant in Easy, the two of you might be working together in the future out in the field. Lieutenant Compton, this is 1st Lieutenant Bellerose from Black Mamba Unit of the Special Operations branch," I looked at the man behind Winters and I saw how piercing blue his eyes were, almost charming in a way as we shook hands. I could swear he was from the west coast, in howe we shook hands and the smile he had. He was a charmer for certain.
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am. The men talk plenty about you and how you're with Special Operations," He explained to me now as I eyed him too, thinking that he would somehow try to woo me then with that smile, it almost felt like it.
"Those men already talk plenty about me, I'm used to it that point," I reassured him, seeing almost taken back a bit from my own react to him. Maybe he wasn't expecting that from me, almost being bolder than what he thought I would be for him. Winters clasped the man on the shoulder now and grinning at me.
"I was about to take him over to the rest of the guys and get him all squared away, care to join us?" He asked me, having me nod in agreement.
"Of course, sir," I replied back. I was going to place the Operation I was going to be a part of to the side, not wanting to bring it up anymore and one again be in fear of it. O'Neal was right, I had no room for fear from what was going to come, there were far more careful things to think about to worry about.
Not fear.
"—Linking Ohama and Utah into one continuous beach-head. Each trooper will learn this operation by heart, and know his and ever other outfit's mission to the detail." I was sitting in at the edge of the mass board that was placed right in the front of the mass group of paratroopers and soldiers, who were sitting on in Meehan's lecture as to what was going to happen and where they were going to land from their jump. Black Mamba was in attendance for the sake of the men knowing of our whereabouts and for us to know where we go to after our Operation as been fulfilled, we too needed to know this all by heart if something were to happen.
"Lt. Meehan?" Duke man asked from the back of the room.
"Yes, Dukeman?" Meehan replied.
"Sir, are we dropping tonight?"
"When it's time for you to know, we'll let you know. In the meantime, study these sand table, maps, and recon photos until you can draw the map of the are by hand. Now, we will drop behind this Atlantic wall five hours before the 4th infantry leads at Utah." Meehan explained to the men again as Dukeman sat back down and some of the men were busting out cigarettes to either calm themselves or pass the time. I looked at the others in Black Mamba, in our black combat hear and attire as we were standing there along the side. We were stone-faced, also looking at the board but also dead ahead now as I did the same, thinking of the plans ahead.
"Between our assembly and the Battalion's objective, there is a German garrison, Right here in this area, Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. Easy Company will destroy that garrison," Meehan explained now as he then pointed in our direction, "Black Mamba is under strict orders to help with the destroying of this garrison as they are going to be landing near Chef-du-Pont, going along in the dead of night and destroying any means of communication that could jeopardize Easy's way of taking over this town." The men looked from Meehan to us now, most of therm were looking at me. I was the Black Mamba 1st lieutenant assigned to them, so they knew me by now of knew of me. None of them knew what I was going to do in this war, it was all talk mostly. But now they were about to get a taste from hearing what I was about to do.
I could see them looking right at me: Malarky, Skip, Sisk, Shifty, Johnny Martin, Guarnere, Libgott with his cigarette in his mouth, and of course, the one person whom I was merely afraid to judge me on any kind of level: Eugene. He looked more puzzled about it than anything, but the way he was looking at me almost felt like he was trying to read my thought to see if it was true. It almost looked like he was hurt from what he was hearing, from what I was about to do.
He could be hurt, I didn't think otherwise. After these months talking together on our down times, the plenty of stories that we swapped together about Louisiana and how those hot summers turned into adventures for the both of us, we were rather close now. I didn't know how he felt about me, since I knew he was any anymore reserved about how he felt with the other men who were in his company, and he even admitted that they taught him, as a medic, to be an arms length away from the men since it would be too hard for him if one of the men dies. He had no time to mourn for the dead, he had to be the strong one and carry one, he was no allowed to be emotional since his job was the most enduring and intense of them all. So it would be no surprise that he wouldn't tell me anything about how he felt.
Eugene Roe would forever be a mystery to me.
June 4th, 1944
"Thee-day supply of K-rations, chocolate bars, candy, powdered coffee, sugar, matches, compass, bayonet, trenching-tool, ammunition, gas mask, musette bag with ammo, my webbing, my 45, canteen, two cartons of smokes, Hawkins mine, two grenades, smoke grenade, Gammon grande, TNT, this bullshit, and a pair of nasty skivvies!" I was walking by the boys at the proper moment when they were getting all of their gear packed up and ready for the jump that w thought was going to be that day, out there on the airstrip and the anticipation of war hanging over our head. My own things were over with Black Mamba, in which most of us were already packed with he light equipment that they were going to give me, a few weapons and rations if we were to get lost or away from our group. It was the day that I thought was never going to come as I heard someone calling out my name.
"Bellerose!"
"What's your point?" Perconte asked Toye as I was raising my hand and a soldier walked over to give me a letter that was written out to me. I grabbed it, looking at the handwriting and seeing that it was from my mother, wondering what she said to say.
"God! This stuff weighs just as much as I do! I still got my chute, my reserve chute, my Mae West and my M-1!" Toye went on with his woes as I opened the letter and held it in my hands. It was better to read it now and not think about it really
"Where are you keeping the brass knuckles?" Perconte asked as I looked at the letter in bitter despair. I knew this was going to happen, something like this was really going tog et under my skin and the thought of the support I thought I had back at him was slowly dissolving into the abyss of my nightmares. This was getting worse and worse.
"I could use me some brass knuckles," Toye said in amusement now as I crinkled up the paper and sighed in defeat.
My mother disowned me. Damn.
We weren't going to fly out that night, the fog was too much for us to get off the ground, We had to wait, which to most of us was already dreadful as they were showing us movies in the tent to wait it out. The men were already dressed and ready, having camouflage on their faces and they combat gear ready to go, but now they had to wait.
I was trying to enjoy myself with the movie they had one, but like the rest of the men there in the tent, I was too occupied with other thoughts and matters in my head. Mostly of my mother and the recent blow to the stomach on how she disowned me from the family. I should have seen it coming, knowing that her own daughter ran off to join the army would be some kind of sandal for someone to try and hide and sweep under the rug. Maybe she had enough of me, really had enough of me and this was her telling me this.
Great.
I got up from my seat, which I was sitting next t Malarky and Skip and they looked over at me in concern as I was making my way over to the flap of the tent to let me out.
"Bellerose?" Skip whispered, someone hushing him as I got out of the tent and saw the gloomy air around us. Even though it was spring, there was still coolness in the air as the fog was, in fact, thick enough for the planes never to get off the ground. Tents were all up in neat aisles and rows, occupying the men and keeping them entertained for the fog to roll away, but I was along there with my own thoughts and they were sickening thoughts at that. It made me reach for a cigarette, feeling one against my breast pocket and grabbing the stick before I realized that I had no lighter, or I couldn't find it.
"Need a light?" I looked over, seeing none other than Eugene there, in his own Combat uniform and looking at me with a small smile on his lips and a box of matches there in his hand, holding it out for me. I grinned at him, placing the cigarette between my lips and then reaching over to grab the matchbox from him lightly, our fingers touching again and another shockwave of feelings were coming to the surface.
"You look a bit out of it, Olivia," He said to me as I light the match and held it against my cigarette, breathing it in and seeing him back the matchbox away again in his pocket, I exhaled through my mouth and sighed, thinking of my mother again and what she did to me was like being stabbed in the heart.
"I got a letter from home today, from my mother," I explained softly, seeing him then nod.
"Well then, I don't blame you for the smoke then," He said in almost a joking manner, but his face fell after seeing the dreaded look on my face. I didn't know why it was bothering me so much, like she basically write me off the face of the earth and never really thought about, not batting an eye to it and it almost made me want to cry. Was I not the best daughter that she wanted? Did she not want to see me now and what I could do? Did she even see me as one of her own children, even after what happened to me and I tried to reason with her that it wasn't my fault?
"Olivia?" Eugene asked, having me no longer have the heart to look away from him and just give him a more sincere look.
"I got a bitter letter from home today," I paused, taking in another inhale and then just letting it all out on the table, "My mother disowned me." Eugene looked like I slapped him across the face from what I told him, and all I could do was stand there and let it sink into me one more time.
"She did what?" Eugene asked as I exhaled the smoke through the nose and watched it drift into the air.
"She made a grand decision to take me out of her will completely," It almost sounded like I was giving up on myself really for what happened and what she did to me. I should just give it up altogether since most of my life was trying to please her and I guess she didn't mind it after all. Eugene was still in shock now as I stayed there, trying really hard not to be angry to the point of yelling at him or at the next person coming by. It was still raw within me what she did and how she still wrote it down so nicely, rubbing it in my face and making me feel underappreciated.
"I guess she didn't like her daughter going off to war, Just never saw that one coming from her really," I admitted to him as Eugene took another step closer to me.
"I'm sorry to hear that," He apologized for me, but I shook my head.
"As shitty as it is, I'm almost a bit glad," I replied, seeing him look at me in confusion.
"What?"
"Oh come on, Eugene. After all, I told you about my mother and how she was with me, this surprises you?" I asked him with a shrug of my shoulders. I saw him stay still from that comment as he then looked a bit uneasy himself. I then saw him grab his own cigarette from his pocket and lit it, having me look at him with a bit of shock there on my own face.
"Since when do you smoke?" I asked him, seeing him exhale through his nose.
"Since I was 18," He replied in a gruff, inhaling once more and then pointing his head to me, "And you're one to talk. Does your mom even know you smoke?"
"There are plenty of things my parents don't know about, and that can explain a lot of my disownment of my family," I replied back to him calmly, inhaling as he was exhaling and having me look up into the air now, almost like the smoke through my lips was my thoughts and my thoughts of my family leaving my lungs and having me forget and release it into the fog.
"I never felt right in that family anyway," I said out of the blue, "I mean, I felt more like that…..what do you call it."
"Black sheep?" Eugene answered me in a question.
"That's it! I was the Black sheep in my family, course now I'm more proud of it than anything," I said in a lighter tone, "But still…disownment….I didn't think it would be that big of a step for them to cut me out of their lives." Silence hung between the both of us then. I hated that word, already graved on my tombstone, whether I was going to get it sooner or later.
"What are you going to do?" Eugene asked as he inhaled from his own cigarette and I looked over at him. That was the infamous question that was hanging in my own brain since I read the letter. Apparently I was not welcome to go back home with my parents, both a good thing and a bad thing. Good thing since it was already a prison living there and having the old memories come back to me. A bad thing since I would now be homeless getting out of the army, if I was getting out of the army any who. I watched the smoke escape from Eugene's nose now as he in return was watching me and waiting to hear my reaction. It was almost hypnotizing to see how he was smoking there, I didn't know why it was, but it almost made me lose my train of thought for a moment.
"I don't know," I answered, almost thinking we were going to having another round of silence when Eugene piped up again.
"I got a letter today too, from my Grandmother," Eugene said out of the blue for the moment of silence there.
"You've never mentioned your Grandmother," I voiced, seeing him smile slightly.
"Didn't think you would want to hear about her anyways," He admitted, but I had to shake my head from that.
"Of course I would want to hear about her," I reminded him before I inhaled once more and I saw him shift on his feet.
"She's from my father's side, always talkin' about God and how He protects everyone, including the sinners," Eugene explained now, his smooth accent reminding me of home again from hearing the other people in Louisiana, almost like the slowing of molasses on his tongue that made it both pleasant to hear and soothing on my skin, "You know she was a traiteur." At this point I perked up, knowing the term and hearing it before from either the other girls in my class and the people passing by in New Orleans.
"Really? You kidding me?" asked in shock, seeing him shake his head now.
"She was, most of her life. Healing people with her hands, praying to God to take away all of the sickness, anything from the flu to cancer," It made me grin even more as he explained it some more now as it was more of a ghost story that I would hear from my mother's friends when they came over to dinner. I remembered them saying it was almost like voodoo, how the lower class "witch doctors" would place their hands on the wounds and pray for them to go away. Maybe it was the ignorance that was bred in that house or the minimal viewing of it, but it was still a tall tale that I rang with, amongst other things.
"She sounds like an amazing grandmother, well, compared to my own grandmother who is under the belief that telephones are from the devil and dancing is for heathens," I commented, hearing him chuckle a bit as he threw his now almost gone cigarette to the ground and jamming his heel to put out the cigarette whole smoke came out though his mouth once more, looking at me again as I took my own last withdrawal and feeling the nicotine kick in.
"I wrote to her about some of the guys in Easy," He explained as I smiled.
"I hope it was good things," I voiced, seeing him shake his head now as I was calling him out to do something bold that was almost basically against his nature.
"Nothing but good things for the men, Olivia," He replied, having me eye him now as he was standing there, hands in his pockets of his combat uniform now as it was raising another question within my own head. I never thought I would have my own mind be warped over this kind of guy, a guy that really wouldn't be on my own radar before. It must have been because we came from the same state, his cool demeanor and steady way of thinking, and the peace that I felt with him compared to anyone else that I have ever talked to. But that question was now the bigger question there outside those tent.
Did he write about me?
